


Spring Blossoms

by Aeris_Blue



Series: Seasons of Grillster [7]
Category: Undertale
Genre: Fear of Death, Fever, Hope, M/M, Magical Sickness, Sickness, Talk of Mortality, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:46:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23221951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeris_Blue/pseuds/Aeris_Blue
Summary: Spring has sprung but things don’t seem like they are off to a good start...
Relationships: Grillster - Relationship, grillbyxgaster
Series: Seasons of Grillster [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1251605
Comments: 16
Kudos: 61





	1. Spring Fever

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** Due to recent events I want to make it abundantly clear that this is a sick fic where characters worry about sickness and try to work through something they fear could be essentially “deadly”. So I just wanted to make that clear!

Gaster paced the floor boards, with every ring of his phone he switched directions worrying his hands as he tried to collect his thoughts. Something was wrong. Something was very very wrong and he didn’t know what to do he knew Grillby wouldn’t want him to bother her but--

“Gaster?” Fuku’s form flickered curiously on the screen. The two had started texting more as of late but it wasn’t in Gaster’s habit to make phone calls.

‘Hi Fuku,’ he ran his fingers against each other as he struggled to make words with his soul racing so much. It was nothing to worry about. He was being silly. But not knowing was about to kill him. ‘Has your dad said anything to you lately?’

“About what?” A worried cyan licked through her flames.

‘How he’s feeling? If he’s okay? He keeps telling me he is but it’s not normal, it’s not, something is wrong and he won’t tell me--’

“Gaster,” Fuku’s tone was sharp enough to pull him from his spiral, ‘what are you talking about?’

It had started a week or so ago, he wasn’t sure the exact date but Grillby woke up shorter than him, noticeably shorter. Being made of fire his height tended to fluctuate between just barely shorter than him and a little bit more than that but this was different. Grillby was particularly groggy that morning and it took until he finished prep work for the bar that his flames began to bolster themselves into their usual oranges. Everyone had their off days and Gaster was willing to accept it as that, after Grillby assured him that’s all it was, but the next day was eerily similar, as was the day after that.

Until this morning where his bow tie hung slack against his neck, his button down swallowed his arms, and his usually form fitting black pants were just about without shape. Maybe the stacked but soft muscles Grillby maintained weren’t natural for him, he’d grown up next to bare chested toned soldiers and picked up that’s how he was supposed to look, but he always took care to maintain the shape.

All of that was concerning but the real surprise came this afternoon. One of the waitresses dropped a glass. It was a regular occurance, par for the course really, but Grillby turned on her in a fit of rage so unlike him that Justin felt the need to send him home. Shortly after Grillby trudged up the stairs with regret carved into his shoulders then flopped straight into bed. He hadn’t moved since.

“Yeah… Dad doesn’t really do that,” Fuku’s flames drew close to her form, “would you let me see him?”

‘He’s sleeping now, hang on,’ Gaster gently pressed the bedroom door open and pointed the phone towards the bed. Grillby’s sleepy deep reds were almost purple as he rested still dressed in his work clothes including his shoes.

“That’s dark,” Fuku gasped and Gaster reminded her to be quiet with a finger to his teeth. Gaster’s soul sank as he watched his love’s flames flicker so close to his core he could almost make out the crag like porous stones that made it. With a request from Fuku he shut the door behind him with a wavering breath.

“I don’t understand… Is he sick?” Her voice was now wavering in worries as tufts of hot blue lifted from her form.

‘He doesn’t smell like he’s sick,’ Gaster passed the phone to a hand bullet. Outside of their drinking days Gaster could think of a handful of times the monster had actually been sick. If it was from something he ate he would have either burned it out or thrown it up by now and if he was sick it always came with a strange scent similar to heavy mist on a dirt road. The only smell he carried with him now was that of a burning wick.

“I haven’t seen him this bad since he returned to the Underground.”

‘When was this?’ Why on Earth would he go back down there when he finally had the sun back?

Her black flecks lowered as if half lidded, “Shortly after I left for school.”

Oh. He hadn’t heard anything about what it was like for Grillby after the barrier broke, it just hadn’t come up. Gaster had figured it was to spare his feelings but it seemed like something he might need to know now. ‘Would you ask the other flames you’ve found? See if anyone knows anything?’

“Yeah I was thinking the same thing,” she rubbed her arm, “I took a few screenshots. I’ll get back to you as soon as I figure something out.”

‘Thank you Fuku.’

She reached to turn the conversation off but she hesitated, “Please take care of my Dad Gaster.”

‘Of course I will,’ his soul fluttered a bit in his ribs despite how upset he still felt. Fuku was starting to trust him and that was a victory all its own.

“I’ll text you as soon as I find something out.” His phone went black as he let out a hefty sigh unsure of what to even try. For now though, he knew what he wanted. He threw his phone back into his inventory and returned to the bedroom where he slowly lowered himself on the mattress in an attempt to not disturb the slumbering flame.

Grillby curled closer to him to bury his face in Gaster’s ribs. Gaster wrapped his arms around him, a much easier task than normal, and pulled him close. Everything was going to be okay, Fuku would figure out what was happening, and everything would be fine. He rubbed circles across Grillby’s back and hummed an old song he couldn’t remember the lyrics to.

After a long while of holding him close, Grillby began to stir and Gaster let him have his space, even if he really didn’t want to. He stretched his thin arms above his head, the wrinkled sleeves of his work shirt fell past his elbows as he did so, but his flames didn’t even attempt to stoke into their usual golden shades. Two tiny pale gray flecks pointed over to him before Grillby sighed, “Will you get my glasses?” His voice was reminiscent of the last sputtering sparks of a campfire.

Gaster happily obliged and returned the glasses he’d set on the night stand to their rightful owner. “I assume Justin told you what happened?”

‘Yes he did.’

Grillby let out the most pathetic whimper of a moan Gaster had ever heard, impulsively he wrapped his hands around Grillby’s, “I didn’t mean to.”

‘It’s okay.’ Hand bullets appeared so close to his chest they had to curl into it to sign properly.

“No it’s not,” he pressed their joined hands up to his flecks, “I can’t do that.”

‘You have every right to get upset from time to time Starling,’ he hoped his sockets read sympathetic but he was never really sure how it worked without the other eye.

“I’ve just been so tired lately,” he shuddered, “and cold but that’s no excuse. I apologized up and down to her…” His eyes squint, “She told me everyone has bad days but I can’t do that.”

‘Why do you keep saying that? You are allowed to be just as upset as anyone else. It happens to all of us, trust that I speak from experience when I say you don’t get to pick when your mind has had enough.’ He nuzzled his forehead against Grillby’s but grimaced when he felt a shuttering cold breath against his ribs. “It’s okay love I promise.”

He shook his head but Gaster doubted it was from understanding, “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

Gaster pressed his teeth together in distaste but nodded in agreement, ‘How about the question game?’ When Grillby made no response Gaster decided to start it anyways, ‘If you could go anywhere in the world where would you go and why?’

“Where…” Grillby crackled softly as he thought with sealed eyes before he focused on Gaster, “This is going to sound weird. But I want to go back to Ashfall.” That was certainly an unexpected answer. Of all the beautiful sunny places in the world Grillby wanted to go back to the place that hurt him most. A place where he was forced to do something no other monster would have ever been asked let alone made to do. 

For so long Grillby had fought to bury that part of his past, ‘Why now?’

His fingers slid out from Gaster’s as he turned them to clutch at his chest, “I just… I want to prove I’m better than I was then, that I’m a different flame.”

‘You are Starling I promise you are,’ he brushed his hand along the side of his face, ‘but it could be a fun, slightly painful, vacation. We could tour the marching grounds. See what all has happened since then.’

“I’d like that,” he smiled softly and Gaster felt just a little bit better.

‘Your turn.’

“Oh, ummm, what is a book you would wipe off the earth if you could?”

‘The Modern P-R-O-M-E-T-H-E-U-S,’ Gaster answered without hesitation, ‘F-R-A-N-K-E-N-S-T-E-I-N if you’d prefer.’

He had obviously been anticipating the logical answer that no books should be destroyed. It's up to the reader to decide whether they want to read it or not, which is how it should be. But if he never saw that book or the pale green monster associated with it ever again he wouldn’t be upset. “Why?” Grillby’s smile grew wide and he could see licks of yellow dance about the edges of his darkened features. 

‘It’s the story of a creature left alone in the world by a creator that wanted nothing to do with it. So it tries. And tries. It learns, it adapts, it reaches out to others only to be rejected time and time again,’ he fidgeted with his sleeve. ‘And the resolution is an utter joke!’ It really didn’t help that he’d read it at a time of his life he was so incredibly uncertain of himself and where he fit into the world.

“Ah, so Frankenstein and his monster isn’t a couple costume any upcoming halloween then?”

Gaster chuckled, ‘Definitely not.’ Even so the idea hummed in his mind: just exactly who would be who? As repulsed by the story as he was, Gaster did have a lot of sympathy for the creature but of the two of them he was certainly more the mad scientist type. ‘Next question:’ he glared pointedly, ‘if you were a fruit what would you be?’

“Nooooo,” Grillby clasped his face, “I hate abstract questions!”

‘Too late,’ Gaster smiled proudly.

“Ugh, okay… ummm,” his shoulders twitched into shrugs as he thought, “I don’t know I can’t eat that many fruits, they're too juicy.”

‘Okay a cake then?’

“Ask me something else,” Grillby moaned, typically Gaster wouldn’t cave, it was good for Grillby to stretch his abstract thinking from time to time but he already wasn’t feeling right.

‘Fine, fine, what about--’ Before Gaster could ask another question Grillby's phone began to ring from his pocket, he pulled it out to accept a video call. 

“Hello Fuku,” he yawned back into his pillow, “how are you doing?”

Her face was pinched in concern as her flecks jot about her father’s face, “Better than you I’d say. Stars Dad, did you dump a bucket of water on your head?”

“Nice to see you too,” he mumbled. “Did you need something?”

“Yes, actually, I was telling Flint about all the cool shapes you can make with your bullets and I wanted to show him,” she held the camera further out to bring a young bright yellow flame into view. 

Grillby’s eyes narrowed, “I can’t exactly hold the phone and make a bullet.”

“I know Gaster’s right next to you,” she put one of her hands on her hip while Gaster waved sheepishly along the side of the camera, “have him hold it.”

“Fuku, you can’t just call and make demands.”

“You do it,” she scoffed.

After that Gaster’s head was filled with too many ellipses to count as the two bantered in their own language. Whatever they were saying must have been pretty humorous judging by Flint’s over the top popping. It stopped very suddenly though as Grillby’s words turned into a bonfire type roar and he turned his head away. ‘What was that?’

Fuku’s flames dimmed from her usual neon hues into a soft forest green, “Dad…”

He shut his eyes and Gaster grabbed the phone from him with a single hand bullet, ‘What’s going on?’ His soul was nestled uncomfortably at the base of his collarbone as he fought to keep it inside where it was safe.

“Tell him,” Fuku demanded.

“Fuku--”

“Tell him!”

“I can’t make bullets!” Grillby bellowed as he turned shades of orange licked pitifully at his dingy reds.

‘What do you mean you can’t make bullets I’ve seen you…’ He lowered his hands slowly, outside of throwing a few sparks in surprise or changing shades had he really used any magic? When he infused his magic into food it was usually nothing bigger than his palm, like the cookies at the festival, other than that he’d just been using monster food to cook.

“How long has this been going on?” Fuku barked.

“I don’t know,” Grillby groaned like an exasperated teen dealing with an overbearing parent.

“What’s the last bullet you remember casting?”

He went quiet for an upsettingly long time as he thought, “Madame Maribelle's fireplace.” 

“Dad,” red danced across her dull greens, “that was years ago!”

For a moment Gaster thought Grillby was going to turn into some sort of liquid slug and slink away, as it was, he sat up on the edge of the bed to get out of the camera’s view. “Oh,” Flint said casually, “you’re just returning then.”

All eyes snapped to him, “N-no,” Fuku wavered, “no. He’s not.”

Returning? Gaster looked to Grillby who looked like he had just swallowed something unpleasant. He was going back to his hearthstone to start his next life but… That meant starting over. Sweeping the slate clean. Growing up again. “It’s just a part of life for us Eternals,” Grillby ran his hand through the flames atop his head, “I’m sorry I never taught you that Fuku.”

‘You’re giving up?’ His hand bullet flickered and dropped the phone onto the mattress, ‘You can’t do that!’ Everything they built up to this point was going to be gone. ‘We can fight this, we can,’ there had to be something, he had to be capable of doing something. Grillby didn’t even look at him. Panic choked in his throat and he lunged for the phone, ‘How do we stop it?’

“How do we stop it?” Fuku either made her own demand or translated for Gaster either way neither of them were going down with a fight.

Flint did his best not to flinch at her harsh tones, “Why would you stop it?”

“Because that’s my dad!”

‘Because that’s my Starling!’

“This is why Eternals live in communities made up of their own kind,” Grillby stated unhelpfully.

Flint put his hands up defensively, “I mean, the problem is he didn’t use his magic so his soul started taking it back.”

_Similar to how muscles deteriorate without use_ , Gater thought, it would be interesting if his soul weren’t about to smother itself with anxiety. 

The yellow flame’s soft orange eyes avoided direct contact with either of the pleading monsters, “If he could muster enough strength for a controlled burn or something that tells his soul his body is okay he’d probably be fine but Fuku your dad is really old right? Maybe it’s just time.”

Fuku dimmed even further, seeing her so dark in hue made Gaster just about sick, “Dad? You’re going to fight this right?” Her voice was so frail a gust of wind could shatter it, “Right?”

Grillby shrugged, “Maybe it is just time.”

“Grillby…” Gaster’s voice wavered pitifully.

“Fine,” Fuku grabbed a few of her belongings, “then I’m going down to Ebott.”

“Fuku that’s two days by train,” Grillby’s voice lacked tone as he stared at the wall like it was suddenly very important to know exactly what color it was.

“I’ll see you in two days.” With that the phone clicked off and Gaster dropped it.

Silence possessed them with a cold bitterness neither could shutter off. What now? What could they possibly do? What did Grillby want to do? Tears pricked in Gaster’s sockets until the weight of them were too much to bear, he leaned into Grillby and wrapped his arms around him. Grillby wrapped his hand around Gaster’s radius and ulna, “I love you.”

“I love you,” Gaster assured him with his face buried against the nape of his neck. He squeezed as tight as he could muster, “I love you so much Starling.” It didn’t really matter though… he knew exactly where this conversation was about to go. This might be the first time he’d actually started to return but it was not the first time this conversation had come up.

Grillby would argue that this was nature, this was what he was supposed to do, and Gaster would fight him tooth and nail to keep on his current path no matter how painful. They’d fight. In the end Gaster would win then feel horrendously guilty as Grillby made a slow crawl back to good health. Gaster had forced him to endure so much more than was fair. Fuku said some flames in her care retreated if the rain fell too hard but Grillby had endured by far worse than a little fall of rain.

Gaster slipped off the bed and Grillby shot him a curious look, ‘I know… this is the first time this has come up between us,’ he clenched his fists tight at his side for a moment, ‘but I’ve had this argument a hundred times. I’m going to go see if I can work on a way to keep you burning. You can stay here and focus on acceptance if you want.’

Grillby seemed genuinely surprised at the directness of his words but Gaster just couldn’t handle the argument anymore. There was a different type of closeness that he had with Grillby now that made it more personal than it had ever been. Someone like him who only had one chance at life would never be able to grasp something that could just turn over a new leaf whenever they wanted.

“Bun?” Grillby called when Gaster’s hand wrapped around the handle. “I-- I don’t know how this went in the past but… I’m scared.”

Gaster’s soul attempted to shatter around his feet, he sounded so weak, so small, it reminded him of the child he once knew. Within a breath his arms were around his partner, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he muttered knowing full well it didn’t really matter what he said. Grillby’s cold flames shuddered in his grip but he did not pop or crackle, or make the slightest semblance of sound as he just tried to process what he’d been told. He held onto Gaster’s hands as if they were the only thing anchoring him in a horrendous storm.

So Gaster laid with him until he fell back to sleep. After that he got to work. If Grillby wasn’t going to give up this time he was going to find a way to fix this.

The next morning was rough. Gaster hadn’t slept at all too wrapped up in his research to dare lay down. When he brought a plate full of Alder shavings to Grillby he barely managed to open his eyes even after the sun was a quarter of the way up the sky. The curtains were drawn back from every window already carefully pinned to allow sunspots to form across the carpet. With a ‘harumph’ Grillby sat in one of the warm patches to munch at the curly wood pieces. (The curly ones were his favorite.)

Finally just before the morning gave way to the afternoon Grillby was awake enough to change out of his work clothes for a baggy t-shirt that hung well past his waist and a pair of pajama pants cinched so tightly the fabric buckled into itself. He was barely up to Gaster’s shoulder today and a part of him threw a wish to the angel that if nothing else he wouldn’t be a stone by the time Fuku got here.

‘You just have to trust me love, this is the only thing I could think of,’ Gaster insisted as they made their way out the bar. It was Thursday which meant there weren’t too many customers around to ogle at their favorite bartender. Definitely the downside of living above your place of work.

“Of course I trust you,” he rubbed his eyes, they had both given up on getting his glasses to stay put when his magical signature was so weak. “I just,” he shrugged, “I don't know what to do.”

In truth, Gaster didn’t either but he carried hope in his soul and the deep wish that hope would be enough.

“I tried… last night to make a bullet, I tried really hard, but I just… I can’t do it anymore,” he rubbed at his face like a toddler trying not to be upset.

That was another difference then the other times returning had come up: he was trying. Many times Gaster allowed himself a break to check on his Starling but before he could open the door he could feel heat blister at his bare toes. On those check ins he decided not to disturb him. It seemed even though the effort had been fruitless. Still, he was trying, and that meant everything to Gaster.

It was a long walk and they had to take several breaks but actually being outside under the sun’s glow was helping Grillby’s color some. Grillby leaned against Gaster but not from necessity, simply because he wanted to be as close as he could right now. His hands were so small in Gaster’s hand he couldn’t help but remember the ornery child he first met a very, very, long time ago. They were both different monsters now, for better or worse.

‘And we’re here,’ Gaster signed excitedly before he gestured to an open field with wild grass almost as tall as he was. Grillby didn’t seem impressed by the gentle bobs of the wild flora that reached over the top of his head. His gray flecks scanned the field with little interest before he turned back questioningly to his partner. ‘Toriel showed me this website where you can pay to view property lines,’ he pulled the screenshot up on his phone, ‘and this patch in front of us from either of those treelines,’ he gestured to the treetops just barely visible in the distance, ‘don’t belong to anyone.’

“Okay?” Grillby rubbed his arms as a breeze passed around them.

‘Which means,’ Gaster prompted his partner but the dots just weren’t connecting, ‘there’s no penalty if this patch just happens to mysteriously catch on fire.’

Grillby’s shoulder dropped, not exactly the expression he’d been hoping for, “Bun.”

‘Don’t Bun me,’ Gaster put his hands on his hips. ‘This is a safe environment love. With plenty of space to help stoke you back up.’

Grillby looked so small as he stared frantically into the vast field. Gaster could almost see his mind turning with the image of sparks igniting into a powerful fire with smoke billowing up into beautiful blue sky. Just in case things went south Gaster had brought a couple of items to make it seem like a freak wildfire but it would be something by far more splendid. Grillby grabbed a tuft in front of him and watched without feeling as his flames burned up the stalk. 

With a soft sigh he grabbed another tuft but before it could burn he sat amongst the tree roots. The green burned away burned away slowly but the ash it released was far too much for such a small plant. A pit settled in Gaster’s soul as he realized Grillby was sobbing. He dropped to his knees with a painful crack before he wrapped his arms around Grillby, ‘I’m sorry I shouldn't have pushed you.’

It might just be time for Grillby to start his next life and if it was then Gaster constantly trying to stop it was cruel. He loved his Starling, his guiding light, his cuddle bug… but this might be outside of a want. 

With nothing more he could think to do he pulled him into his boney lap and Grillby clung to him like his boys used to after a bad dream. It was instinctual to rock even if it was uncomfortable for his tailbone. ‘Love, don’t worry about anything,’ he pressed a kiss to the top of his head surprised by how much the short flames tickled, ‘if you go back to your hearthstone I can promise you a better life.’ He smiled softly to the wide eyes that looked up to him. Stars, the last time Grillby was this small next to him he had metacarpals in his palms and holes in his ribs it seemed so odd that their story was going to end so similar to the way it began. No, that wasn’t the case. It wouldn’t be too long before Grillby would be back to start a new story.

‘A life free of swords, and duties, and purposes,’ Grillby rested against his ribs to watch the hands in front of him, ‘where you never _ever_ have to hurt a human or dust another monster. One where Ashfall never happened, where you were never separated from your precious sun, and shadows never bore forgotten faces.’

‘You’d get to be a kid,’ Gaster chuckled, ‘we’d let you be your impetuous and silly self as long as you wanted.’ He hoped the tears forming in his sockets would stay in place so Grillby wouldn’t feel them as they fell. ‘A life where you’d never know loneliness because Fuku, Sans, Papyrus, and I would always be there for you.’ 

He could see it now. The appeal of starting over. After so many fights over the years he finally understood and he would do everything in his power to ensure the brilliant bright future his star deserved. 

Even if it meant giving up the violet and orange union, the silk shirts and clean white vests. With their friends, their family gathered around them with excited smiles to wish them well. A future without an embarrassing dance in front of everyone, or cake, or… someone small between them. Someone that would let the two single dads try their best to be parents together. It was so silly how conforming and pety these thoughts had once been in his mind but now the thought of losing them tugged at his soul like reins on a wild horse. 

A soft sigh escaped him as he let the thoughts drift away from him. “What about you?” The voice caught him off guard, it sounded so much stronger than it had been, so much more like his Starling.

‘I’ll be at your side of course,’ he’d said that didn’t he? There’s no place else he’d rather be.

“No,” he furrowed his brows as if it took an absurd amount of concentration just to retrace his thoughts, “you’ll be sad because I’d forget you again.”

For a split second he let his smile drop, true, Grillby would once again look at him like a stranger but Grillby’s happiness mattered so much more than his own. He hugged him close to his chest and he could feel just how hard Grillby’s soul was pulsing to maintain his flames. ‘A little,’ he had to be honest after all, ‘but nothing makes me happier than seeing you happy.’

“What about the bar?”

Gaster kissed the top of his head again, ‘What would you like me to do with the bar?’

“I wanna run it,” he grabbed onto Gaster’s hands.

‘Maybe your culinary expertise will follow you to your next life, but you’ll be too little to run a business for at least a year.’

“Who will take care of Fuku?”

‘Fuku is old enough to take care of herself but I will gladly watch her in your stead.’

“Who will take care of you?” He turned around in Gaster’s lap to look up at his watery sockets.

‘I will of course.’ Grillby pulled a face, ‘What’s that for?’

“You won’t eat if I don’t make you.”

‘That’s not true.’

“Yes it is!”

‘Is not,’ Gaster smiled and received a delighted one from Grillby. The small flame threw their arms around him and squeezed as tightly as he could muster, which wasn’t much. He hugged his darling star back, “I love you.”

“I love you too, I love you so much.” He suddenly pushed himself out of Gaster’s lap and stood with his legs spread apart and his arms in front of him. It took awhile for Gaster to realize he was trying to start a fire, “...........” 

‘Starling, it’s okay.’

“I don’t want to start over!”

‘I swear on my soul I’ll make sure your next life is a happier one.’

“I’m happy now!” He threw his arms forward and a fleck of orange ran down his shoulder to his hand but it stayed focused in his palms. “I am,” Soot began to collect on the wild grass in front of him. “I’m happy with my life,” he wiped at his eyes, “I’m happier than I remember ever being. It’s not fair!”

Gaster took a steadying breath: what else was there to try though? He’d hoped taking him to a safe environment away from the sights and sounds of city life would be enough. Grillby was always so careful of his flames the only way he’d truly feel safe was somewhere without any risk for casualties. If this wasn’t enough then whatever mental block he’d placed on his soul wasn’t going to just fall away. Still, if his love was trying so hard he had to do something because for the first time he could remember he was truly looking for the future he dreamed of to come true.

When they rekindled Grillby it took a long while for the little spark to start using magic and even once he was ‘old enough’ to do so he struggled with it. What did Asgore do? Gaster hummed as that deep rooted desire to conjure flames crept over him again. If only they could combine their magic somehow… Wait.

Staining. 

Eternals were susceptible to outside magic. He looked down to his hands and he had enough of it to stain him. He was highly researched in matters of the soul...A sudoku puzzle was forming in his mind and he was fairly certain he’d found the right combination. Gaster cupped his hands under Grillby’s elbows and focused on the pulse of his own magic. “What are you--” 

“Shhhh,” a sound similar to a train settling escaped his teeth and Grillby relaxed into his grip. There we go. He could feel Grillby’s magic now. It was slow, way colder than usual, but frantic spiking out in all directions as Grillby tried to force it towards his hands. It was an ebb and flow, a push and pull. His magic seeped into Grillby’s form before it was pushed back out. He pressed back again to receive an argumentive stutter from his soul but he wasn’t going to give up.

He had to change the current of Grillby’s magic from inward to out. His magic reached along Grillby’s again but his grip was too weak and it retreated back to its own host. Already he could feel Grillby’s subtle warmth in his own cold magic bubble like carbonated soda but it wasn’t enough to deter him.

With a set of shaky hand bullets he placed Grillby’s hands back up towards the field. ‘Push,’ Grillby’s magic tried to change direction but it only succeeded in freezing it's frantic fit just long enough for Gaster’s to get a grip. A shaky stutter rattled in his shoulders, ‘Release.’ Gaster took a moment to breath before he reached in again finding his grip much faster. With a grunt of effort he pulled with the same force as he would with blue magic and he felt the magic giveaway just a bit to his wishes.

Stars alive it was like trying to change the direction of a river with a pingpong paddle. Grillby’s magic just had so much more to it then his own sickly shadow magic but he wasn’t going to let go now. Suddenly Grillby’s roaring heat pressed back against Gaster’s hands as a dark flame danced between Grillby’s hands. It dispersed almost immediately but it was a start.

Finally, Gaster managed to wade his way to Grillby’s soul where he was overwhelmed with ideas of fear. He scrunched the tips of his fingers into Grillby’s arms as his body tried to let go reflexively. It was so vast, so crippling, that he could feel the gray edges of fear working like a vacuum demanding all magic be drawn into it, even his own. Why was he so desperately afraid? What had happened that he didn’t know about? His head fell heavy against Grillby’s back as he tugged with all his might to send a trickle of piping hot magic down to his hands then up through Grillby’s. 

One pull, his own soul screamed at such subtle manipulation of it. This wasn’t what it was for, this wasn’t how he was supposed to use his magic and it was waring thin trying. One more… one more push, he was so close he could feel the edges of the river wavering in their predetermined route. With a grunt he pulled the magic back towards his hand with all the force he could muster.

He could feel it. The stir in the current as it was met with utter confusion for a moment, swirling like a hostile whirlpool before it followed his lead. A massive fireball cast a multitude of colorful lights over the field and Grillby laughed with delight. “Gaster! You’re insane!”

‘Not the first--’ When he pulled his hands away to sign he could still feel the molton magic of his star swirling about in his hands and racing towards his soul. It was so overwhelming hot but he knew it meant him no harm. He sat down without any semblance of grace against the nearest tree, ‘Not the first time I’ve been accused of that.’

Grillby sat against Gaster with a small orange bullet that flickered wildly between his hands with the occasional wisp of violet. “I… I forgot what this felt like,” autumn oranges leapt across his back, “it’s good.”

‘You’re good,’ Gaster assured him.

Grillby stood with the flame dancing in his hands and he stoked it bigger, brighter, before it grew as large as his torso. Gaster may be more exhausted than when he pulled all nighters on exams but Grillby was smiling with a bullet in hand, his love was going to see another day. Grillby gave a cautious glance over to the field, ‘You’re a wildfire my love. Burn like you were born to do.’

That little nudge was all it took his form flickered and wavered before he threw the bullet in front of him. The fire spread in an even blaze across the tall grass as he pulled his arms apart. Suddenly it ruptured high above the treeline with a blistering heat that teased oranges against his chest. 

Grillby rubbed his shivering shoulders before he stripped his ill fitting clothes. He folded them neatly then passed them to Gaster who clutched them to his chest. How long had it been since Grillby had welcomed this part of himself? He ran his fingers through the red flames in front of him and watched as they turned his fingers orange, warmth he could feel, light he could touch, this was him. 

Flames poured themselves to his soul filling him with a confident warmth that made his form flicker into a mess of shapes but he wasn’t out of control. He was still him. He leapt into the flames with the force of prey escaping its predator and he scorched the earth with every step as he ran without restraint. The blistering heat choked the land of its vibrant spring greens as smoke and flame ripped past them to make a funnel of smoke. 

He leapt back into a mass of flames behind him and swam to the peak of them, lifting himself through the top before diving headfirst into the ground. A bullet formed in his hand and he used it to erupt a new pillar from the ground which broke his fall. He laughed as he rested against his own warm impassioned magic, his arms stretched to either side of him.

It felt wonderful! His core wasn’t locked like bricks inside him, his hearthstone didn’t weigh like lead against his chest, and he felt so blissfully warm as his flames drew back to their usual shape. Had he really felt that miserable? That run down for so long? He’d never questioned it, never fought against it, just let himself cool further and further until his flames felt dark as tar. How had no one noticed? Maybe… maybe they did. Bits of conversations came back to him and he realized just how long he hadn’t been feeling himself.

In that moment he didn’t care about all the jobs he’d lost for just being what he was. He didn’t care about the extra fees they threw his way to keep emergency sprinklers out of the bar. All the cruel words and distrusting glances didn’t matter because in that moment he truly felt at peace.

He sat up and stretched letting his fingers wisp away from his body briefly before he drew them back. Stars he felt so loose! So light! He sprang to his feet a bit clumsily and had to stagger to catch himself. A delighted crackle rippled through him as a large ball of flame conjured effortlessly in his hand he spread it before him in a wall before he swung his arms to coax it into the shape of a resting bird. With a shrug of his shoulder and outstretched arms the fire bird took flight over head spinning a tight circle before it dispersed in sparks that singed the land.

Beautiful. The orange sparks danced as they fell with the liveliness of a jitterbug. They didn’t catch light like the rain; they were light, beautiful sparkling light that stung at what it touched.

With his adoration and vigor restored he marched through the flames drawing them all back into his form as he went. Gaster had fallen asleep against the tree with Grillby’s clothes tucked tight to his chest. His wonderful silly little skeleton looked so peaceful amongst the black smudges that paraded across his form. Was there anything his partner couldn’t do? He gently cradled his partner close to his chest before he placed a warm kiss over his forehead, “I love you Bun.”

“I love you,” Gaster mumbled sleepily as his hands fidgeted with the clothes in his grip.

  
  


When Gaster woke up it took him a bit to realize he was back at home in his own bed. The floppy orange and yellow rabbit plush Grillby had bought him was tucked against his chest while his fingers scrunched against the fur. He smoothed out the fur as he melted into the mattress delighted to be back home. Something wet dripped from his forehead and after a brief moment of panic he realized a washcloth was across it.

He struggled atop his elbows to sit up fully and by the time he’d managed to coax his pillows against the headboards properly he found himself exhausted. The door creaked open and a glowing orange Grillby stepped through wearing nothing more than a pair of pajama pants. His toned form had returned to him, his glasses were mounted perfectly, and the drawstring on the pants were knotted a single time without any buckling in the fabric. Good.

His eyes puckered with tears as he took in his love burning so brightly, so perfectly. “Bun?” Yellow caught itself in that tropical orange glow as a smile threatened to split his face apart. Gaster lifted the plush from his chest in confirmation and Grillby practically collapsed against the side of the bed, “Thank goodness… Fuku! He’s awake!”

To his surprise a bright green flame tore open the door, “Gaster!?”

‘The one and only,’ he winced realizing his body had acquired an allergy to moving.

“Thank the stars,” she sat at the end of the bed, “you had us both worried sick.” Wait, Fuku wasn’t going to be there until tomorrow? How did she get here so fast? And why did he have them worried? “How are you feeling?”

‘Fine I--’ Wait. Now that he thought about it, he was very, very hot, his joints ached, movement made him dizzy, and there was an odd pit where his stomach should be telling him to eat everything and nothing at the same time. ‘Actually, no,’ what did this even feel like? ’I feel like I drowned.’

“You’ve got a fever love,” Grillby cupped his hand around the side of Gaster’s skull and he leaned into it. “You really shouldn’t have tried to pull my magic out of my soul.”

‘It worked,’ he smiled lamely.

“It did,” Grillby admitted, “but now… Umm,” he looked over to Fuku for help.

“Your magic is having to fight his off and out, but you should be fine within the week now that you’ve woken up,” she adjusted her skirt and focused steadfastly on the floor. Her flames softened about her face as she focused on the spot, “Thank you Gaster. For taking care of my dad.”

‘I’d do it again in a soul beat,’ Gaster did his best impression of a wink.

“Please don’t,” the flames stated in unison.

He laughed as he rested further against the pillows, “Let's get you to eat something before you go back to sleep. How’s some peanut butter nice cream sound?” Grillby suggested as he started to stand.

Gaster snatched his hand, ‘Good but…’ he fumbled awkwardly not wanting to lose his grip on Grillby.

“Don’t worry I’m on it!” Fuku slipped off the bed. “Now remember you two no prolonged contact, no kissing, no--”

“Fuku!” Cyan and magenta waltzed against their sunrise backdrop as Grillby flushed with embarrassment. She laughed diabolically as she walked out the door.

Grillby sat on the floor and held Gaster’s hand. It was about all Gaster had the energy for but it was nice just to watch the way his flames flickered and swayed so lively. ‘What was different this time?’

“I’m happy right now,” Grillby shrugged, “I have a lot of things I still need to see and do.”

‘Like what?’

“Well,” he rested his arms along the mattress, “I’m a proud Dad who wants to see their daughter graduate next year, I _just_ approved a new menu that I want to see how it does, catering is starting to take off, and,” his flecks pointed into Gaster’s sockets, “I still need to smash a cake in your face.”

Gaster cocked his head as best as he could from his current position, ‘But I don’t have a birthday.’

Confusion leapt across Grillby’s face before he laughed in a merry yellow, “You’re tired Bun, Nice Cream then right back to sleep.” He kissed Gaster’s knuckles gently.

Gaster’s eyelight softened just as Fuku came back with the promised bowl of Nice Cream, “Hey! I said no kissing!” The two turned quickly to her and laughed like nervous teenagers who had just been caught for the first time. There was still plenty of laughter ahead of them for which Gaster was incredibly grateful.


	2. Burning Season

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grillby and Gaster are both feeling better after the events of the previous chapter but Gaster has some serious questions he needs answers to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is written in a very different style than normal. If it bothers you I apologize we will be right back to the normal perspective come next update I just had a lot of ground to cover to get the questions from the last chapter answered.

Grillby sighed happily as he watched Gaster make quick work of the broccoli cheddar soup he’d made. He was just about back to normal from his bout of magically induced sickness which eased the worry in his soul tremendously. Even though he felt better than he had in ages he still worried, he would always worry. That was just a part of himself. 

Gaster bit down on the spoon, ‘Any reason you’re staring at me like that?’

It took him a moment to pull out of the blissful state he’d been in, “You’re just cute is all,” he rested back on his hand as the spoon slipped from Gaster’s teeth. Gaster took this as a convenient excuse to break eye contact. Grillby kept getting caught watching him but he couldn’t help it. He was thrilled everyday to be here with his Bun doing stupid normal things like reading books together, taking care of him, cooking-- with fire magic again! 

Stars alive he forgot what flavors it added! The restorative value of his food was already excellent but now it was-- whatever was better than excellent! And of course Gaster never hesitated on lavishing him with praise at every dish. He was happy, he was healthy, and he owed it all to Gaster. 

“Anything sound good for dinner?”

He sat up and set the spoon on the table, ‘I just finished lunch,’ he smiled and Grillby wanted to melt. That was his Bun’s smile, that was his partner grinning at him being silly, and that was such an amazing feeling. His flames dimmed as he settled his hand atop Gaster’s, he was nearly better but Grillby didn’t dare upset the sickness with his heat.

“So no?”

‘I’ll get back to you,’ Gaster chuckled, ‘but you really don’t need to keep going all out like this. I’m fine.’

“I know I just…” he shrugged, “feel responsible for it I guess.”

‘Don’t,’ he signed flatly, ‘I’m just glad it worked and look,’ he flexed his arms as if he had anything to show for it, ‘I’m better already so please, relax a bit.’ He looked down to the dirtied spoon for a long while as his mind roamed along some forest trail with half formed edges. ‘Actually, there’s something I want to talk to you about.’

“Yeah, anything,” he brightened.

‘Your soul was completely entrapped by a fear I couldn’t pinpoint, Fuku mentioned you left the Surface once, and you said something about a Madame. I just feel like I’m missing something really important.’

Oh, that wasn’t nearly as fun as he’d been hoping. ‘Yeah,’ he nodded his head, ‘I forget you don’t know everything and I hate talking about the past.’

‘Please? If it’s enough to hurt you like that I want to-- I need to know Starling.’

“Okay. I just don’t really know where to start.”

‘Start with when you saw the sun the first time.’ The request wasn’t necessarily to start the story, he could tell by Gaster’s soft smile he just wanted to hear about it. 

A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, “The sun…” He wasn’t one of the first monsters up on the Surface nor one of the last he was a part of the herd somewhere in the middle. Fuku wanted to storm through the barrier the second it was broken but he wasn’t as eager. 

He’d made a life for himself in the Underground, sure it wasn’t the happiest but he was content which was the most he thought he could wish for. He smiled over to Gaster who was listening intently, little did he know he could hope for a lot more than being content. The Surface was populated by humans with weapons and deadly intent. It wasn’t safe for anyone so why was everyone talking about it? They were just going to be shoved back down here or dusted. It was safe in the Underground and with the barrier open maybe they could forage for the supplies they were so short on to make everything better… But no. It wasn’t enough.Monsters were moving to the Surface and Fuku was pulling him ahead under the promise that they could do anything together. 

That first moment underneath the midafternoon sun as he shed off the cavern’s cold was blinding. He had completely forgotten how much brighter it was than himself. It took his eyes a moment to adjust but it took his body even less. His flames flared to life fast enough to startle nearby monsters and embarrass himself. It was so warm, so inviting, he couldn’t help but laugh as a life burned in his magic with a ferocity he didn’t remember.

“It was big, beautiful, yellow, hot,” he shrugged, “it made me think maybe the Surface wouldn’t be as bad as I’d been making it out to be.”

And for a long time it wasn’t. Camp was wonderful and waking up with the sun every morning had him feeling young again. Everyday he would man a tent with a few other restaurant owners to make and distribute food for all the citizens. It was stressful but as long as he was cooking he was happy.

Before much longer building began led by the former Royal Scientist Alphys and a crew of workers that sought to ensure every monster family their own, personalized, home. Alphys had insisted on self sufficient energy systems that were harder for humans to turn off during such a turbulent time. Fuku was thrilled and took to designing a perfect home for them but it would never be built.

Fuku, plus a few of the other young monsters, were accepted to formal schooling institutions around Ebott and beyond. “She was always so adventurous, so of course she was the only one that dared to travel away from Camp.”

As he helped her pack her bags for this new school on the Surface he worried, it’s what he did. He’d never been to this place and it was a human school, the online pictures seemed nice enough but that didn’t mean things wouldn’t switch when she got there. There was no way they could accommodate a flame, she was going to end up scared, hurt, alone, and he couldn’t help her if she needed it. 

“Luckily, Fuku is just one of those monsters that makes friends wherever she goes,” he smiled a bit sadly, “she sent me lots of pictures.” 

Then housing in Camp halted suddenly as a delicate peace seemed to be reached between the races. Monsters started moving into the city. Grillby would never be brave enough to move into the city and live next to humans but one by one Camp was slowly emptied. His coworkers moved to the city, the dog pack, Bonnie, it felt like everyone had left him behind.

“I was some relic left from a bygone era,” he rubbed his eyes, “Fuku said we’d do this together and I still wound up alone.”

Gaster wrapped his thin fingers between Grillby’s and gave him the type of smile that said ‘I’m here’. “Thank you,” he finished rubbing his eyes with one hand while the other greedily squeezed for support. “I just wanted to go back where things made sense.”

So he packed up his meager belongings, slung the bag across his back, and marched back up the mountain. His old home in Snowdin had grown grime covered from neglect, as had the bar, which meant it was easy enough to clean his worries away until his place in the world was sparkling clean. 

Every so often a monster would be delighted to see the bar was back open, they’d stay for awhile before moving on. Sometimes they’d come back but it was nothing like it once was. “Fuku hated that I was back down there, largely because my cell phone couldn’t reach the Surface but I assured her I was safe.”

‘How?’

“Sans became my only regular and he’d message her for me.” The Surface didn’t quite agree with Sans either and Grillby knew if it wasn’t for Papyrus he’d be right back down the street. Papyrus had effortlessly embraced the city but Sans never seemed to have anything grand to say about it. 

Monsters were accused of stealing jobs when most of what they could get was bottom rung. They were penalized for everything and monitored for any sort of misbehavior that would be dealt with eerily swift. The way he spoke sent a shiver up Grillby’s spine, every day on the Surface sounded like a nightmare. A part of him wanted to request Sans move back down here just to stay safe but Sans was careful and Grillby had to respect that.

“Then one day, Sans was just looking at me odd,” he shrugged, “I’d probably shifted back to my Underground shades, you know how much of an adjustment that was the first time.”

‘Yes,’ he nodded some memory no doubt slinking through his mind.

“But he just wouldn’t stop talking like the Surface was this amazing place after venting for the last several months about how horrible it was.” He was still trying to figure out exactly what had shifted but trying to figure Sans out was like trying to catch water with a fishing net. “When I didn’t seem convinced he took my arm and next thing I knew I was under the yellow sun again.”

“After that I was moving into the skeleton brother’s small apartment in the city where I stole Papyrus’s bedroom.”

‘I doubt they ever saw you as a problem.’

Where he knew that was true he didn’t feel like that at the time. The apartment was two bedrooms, a kitchen that also served as the dining room, and a small nook in the back that could pass for a living room since it fit their weird shade of green couch. He lived with them for a while as a housemaid of sorts running their laundry to the washers (the manager didn’t want their laundry in with the human residents), dishes, and general tidying. It wasn’t much but it gave him some control over the situation.

Another feature on the small apartment was incredibly thin walls. One night when the brothers thought he had fallen asleep he could hear their voices plain as day. “Someone told the landlord that there was a living fire being sheltered in their apartment,” he rubbed his knuckles, “and upped the rent an unfair amount.”

‘To accommodate another individual?’

“To pay for fire and smoke damage,” he pursed his lips as he remembered just how cramped the bedroom felt that night, just how dark the shadows loomed about him. The next morning when the brothers left for their respective jobs Grillby hit the pavement. What job he took didn’t matter; he just had to find one. 

Time and time he was turned away under the simple premise that they weren’t hiring or the position had just been filled. He started scoping out the newspapers to find numbers to call but even ones that were interested lost interest when they met him. Grillby didn’t ware easily but constantly being rejected was leaving him ragged. There was no time to give up though, the landlady was growing more and more demanding of the brothers, he couldn’t repay their kindness with more troubles.

Finally, he found himself employed to a crummy little fast food burger place, and, even more surprisingly, his coworkers warmed up to him pretty quickly. They were young, without any trace of discipline, but it wasn’t long before the ragtag group felt like a home away from home. The pay was pitiful but he was content to go make food and talk to these strange humans who were kind to him.

For several weeks he was able to give the brothers his weight of the rent but it halted very suddenly. “There was a health inspection,” he explained, “and apparently having fire around grease was a huge health hazard.”

Gaster’s face had grown solemn with a quiet rage as he fumed with twitchy fingers but he didn’t dare interrupt with his outrage for fear of changing the subject. It was endearing in its own way and even without a single hand gesture Grillby knew the monster was pacing internally with his hands spazzing in all directions as they failed to keep up with his racing mind.

“The manager fought tooth and nail for me but I assured him it wasn’t worth it.” He turned in his uniform that same day, collected his last check, then walked around for a while without any particular aim. It had taken so long to get that job, things were finally okay, and now they weren’t. All because of him. Because of what he was.

As he wandered his hearthstone began to ache until he forced himself to sit on a bus bench. The pains in his chest were almost unbearable but still they were better than his swirling self pity. “I cried,” he laughed, “openly and in public without any sort of remorse. I was so tired Gaster I figured it was time to return but… I’d still be made of fire when I was rekindled, I’d still be this detestable hazard to everyone. Over and over and over they told me how dangerous I was!”

‘You’re not,’ Gaster assured him, burning with enough perseverance for the both of them.

“I felt I was! And I guess… I never got over it,” he cupped his hands over his soul as he let out a long unsteady breath. “But as I sobbed on that bench an elderly woman came up to me.”

Madame Maribelle. She was a very peculiar human with wrinkled wrinkles but an ornery glint in her eyes that looked more mischievous than a child. Her white hair sat atop her head like a cloud which fit her bright blue eyes. “She asked what was wrong and… I told her.”

‘Woah,’ Gaster smiled for the first time in minutes, ‘that’s impressive.’

Grillby chuckled, “Yeah, I don’t know, something about her just felt different.” He rolled his hand in the air as he tried to decide how to describe her, “Almost magical in an old Earthly way.”

She offered him a job housekeeping for her and after declining several times he had no choice but to agree. “Gaster I can’t begin to describe how gorgeous this woman’s house was!” Everything sparkled and shined with a polish that readily took his glow as he passed. It was actually rather fun working for her. She didn’t want much outside of basic cleaning but he took pride in his work, warming her bed, keeping her fireplace well lit, and even cooking for her.

Maribelle was probably the only one in the world that loved his cooking as much as Gaster. They would eat lunch on her patio together and she would tell him stories that left him in a state of awe. Something about this woman just felt so warm to him as if they were friends catching up with each other after a long time apart.

Eons ago her family had owned a farm that was worked on by Elementals which meant she had mage blood somewhere in her ancestry. This should have terrified him but she had been nothing but kind to him, paid him well, treated him right. “When monster registration became a thing she scoffed at the idea of it but was right there with the brothers and I as we waited in line.”

No one seemed more upset than her when the city labeled him as a hazard. It was a special class for monsters that were threatening to human society. He wasn’t allowed in a store without a human escort, he couldn’t even go to the laundromat anymore, all because he was made of fire. Humans certainly were fearful of the element they had harvested themselves.

Maribelle proved to be the opposite of what he had believed humans to be but her friends? Well, they were exactly the same. “They had been over a few times, made some comments,” his voice trailed off as it pinched into anger: “made some… rather grotesque demands.”

Gaster raised a brow and Grillby rocked back in his chair, ‘You know how drunk ladies act at the bar towards me?’ When Gaster gave a slow nod Grillby continued, ‘That sort of grabby hand garbage but completely sober.’

One day however they seemed… off. Particularly hostile, mean, bitter, and Grillby still didn’t know what had set them off. Maribelle left to grab the cookies Grillby had prepared from the kitchen. He’d learned almost immediately not to take tasks from her so he took to refilling the guests lemonade.

“When I set the pitcher down one of the women,” the grabby one that made his stomach curl to think of her crummily dyed brown hair and thick laced pearls, “picked it back up and splashed it at me.”

That time Gaster couldn’t control his he pushed his chair out and stormed into the bedroom. Wingdings fluttered down the hall at a decibel considerably higher than Gaster probably intended. He couldn’t help but smile as the strange mechanical noises hummed about the kitchen. It wasn’t nice to know his story had upset his partner but it was comforting to know that such anger could be dedicated to his behalf.

After a while Gaster came back in with a hot breathed sigh, ‘Tell me you got even.’

He knew Grillby wouldn’t ever do that but the sentiment was appreciated, “I was a bit too scared.” Lemon had a high citrus level which meant its’ peels were actually good for him but the juice was still a liquid. It drenched his ribs, his stomach, and dripped down his pants as a terrible cold consumed him. The last time he’d been soaking wet had been a very long time ago.

The reminder of what it felt like was not appreciated but he wasn’t alone. Maribelle was quick with towels and she helped him into the kitchen “Looking back,” he chuckled, “it had to be quite the scene. Every light was on, the oven door was open, she lit candles, all in an attempt to keep me warm. And boy did she read her friend the riot act but… I didn’t think it was funny back then.”

Back then it was just… one more thing. One more act of blatant hatred and distrust when he finally thought he was safe. What he was wasn’t ever going to be okay for the humans and they were right. He knew what his flames could do to them, he knew what devastation he was capable of manifesting, he knew there was nothing on the Surface for him. Once his flames were stoked back to their usual shades he dismissed himself from Maribelle’s service, dismissed himself from the brothers’ apartment, and found himself standing in Camp once more.

“I--,” he folded his hands together on the table and squeezed.

Gaster cupped the side of Grillby’s face and smiled until the world felt right again. Grillby rested into Gaster’s gentle grip eagerly. Things were different now and so much better than the him from then would ever believe. He placed his hand over Gaster’s and returned his smile with one of his own, so, so much better. ‘You can stop,’ Gaster assured him, ‘you’ve told me more than enough.’

“Almost done,” he nodded his head and Gaster agreed before he pulled back in his chair, “I was going to go back to Snowdin and start my next life. One where I wouldn’t have to worry about connections because loneliness was all I would know. Where I wouldn’t have to worry about losing the sun making me sick because I’d never seen it. I just…”

‘Wanted everything to stop,’ his eyes bore a sympathy he didn’t want his Bun to muster. Not to something like that and not with such a familiarity to have experienced it himself.

“But things got better, and that’s just it, sometimes things are bad for a very, very long time but you just have to hold on,” he grabbed Gaster’s hands, “because they will get better.”

As he rested in the makeshift Inn at Camp his phone wouldn’t stop buzzing: Fuku, Sans, Papyrus, Maribelle they were all worried but he just couldn’t be bothered to care. When Toriel called though, he answered. He never knew why, maybe some lingering sentiment to the old queen of monsters, but he had cut ties from the Dreemurr family ages ago. 

It was good news: the hazard label on certain types of monsters were removed. Well that would certainly help Fuku out. He thanked her for her time and efforts but just as he was about to hang up she asked him something. “I know you have important things to do,” Grillby repeated with a smile, “but I was wondering if you would give me the recipe for your burgers. Frisk has been pestering me about it for a while.”

His yellows flared to life across his hands and he could feel them across his chest, “I don’t know why, I don’t know how, but that simple question just put things into perspective.” If he started over no one would know the recipe, the skeleton brothers would go back to eating charred toast for breakfast, Fuku would never get the mac and cheese she loved again, and… there was a chance he’d never cook again if he started over. 

“After that one phone call everything started to change, I got my new hazard free license, I could move around most of the city as I wanted, and eventually I got my business license. Maribelle helped with the construction of this place, Fuku came down to help work on it, Sans and Papyrus did their best impressions of help, and then… I was content again.”

Gaster rubbed his sockets as a soft clicking jittered in his bones, ‘I’m glad you persevered.’

“Me too.”

‘I just… I’m so glad you’re here, and you’re you, and that you’re happy,’ his thumbs wiped swiftly at the base of his sockets as he tried to still his rattle. ‘I just--’ He got up from his chair and wrapped his arms around Grillby.

Grillby pulled him close, those days had cut him deep but after it scarred over he figured he was done healing. That he was all better. That those days were far behind him. But it was still a scar, it was still visible, he’d just been ignoring it until it opened back up. Luckily, Gaster nipped his cheek and a rush of joyful magic leapt straight to his soul, someone was there with the glue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know a part of me thinks this should go over in the requests instead of here but @.@ 
> 
> So yeah. Fun fact: I wrote the first Seasons of Grillster chapter because I couldn't get inside of Grillby's head well enough to write 'Fire Hazard' which was basically this what this was a long summary of. I still feel weird about the way this turned out but felt a few things needed to be addressed and I HAVE not been able to get any of this into the story organically due to the way this series is written. The day-by-day style is a lot of fun but there are times it doesn't give me the wiggle room I need. 
> 
> Anyways next chapter will be back to normal and somewhere end of April or Mid-May. I hope you all have a nice day and are staying safe out there!

**Author's Note:**

> I might be doing a really quick follow up to this sometime in the next week explaining Grillby’s unfortunate early impressions of the Surface. Trying to cram it into this one just made it clunky...-er than it already is ^^’ Don’t get me wrong I enjoyed writing this it just feels stop and go? But I think that a lot! Haha


End file.
